


Betrothals can be broken, Secrets can be told

by Amymel86



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom!Jon, F/M, Hardly any plot at all, Like A smidgen maybe, Smut, did I mention smut?, smutty-smutty-smut-smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-06-01
Packaged: 2018-11-07 18:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11064552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amymel86/pseuds/Amymel86
Summary: Pretty much just smut - Jon doing a bit of dirty talk





	Betrothals can be broken, Secrets can be told

The first time Sansa had really cared to assess the hurt in his eyes as she'd declared Jon different and separate from her other Stark siblings was the beginnings of something new.

The thought that her own words had caused such pain triggered something to twist and scrape in her gut, so she sought to soften her demeanour towards him. To apologise and make amends. To blame her behaviour solely (and rather cowardly) upon her Lady Mother.

Who ever thought her turn about in attitude would lead to this? Sansa pondered briefly, almost a year later, as Jon bent her over a hay bale and hiked up her skirts.

She was already slick between her thighs from his kisses and mouthing of her breasts.

"It seems my Lady's little wanton cunt has soaked her fine silk underthings..." Jon breathed hot behind her ear. He always commented on her readiness for him. Sansa didn't mind - quite the contrary - she loved his filthy words, they uncoiled something hungry within her.

"You must rid me of them then" she purred over her shoulder. She smiled to herself as the loud rip tear noises filled the secluded barn. Sansa really wasn't sure why no one was yet to comment that all she seemed to be doing in her dressmaking sessions was mending her smallclothes or creating new ones.

"Hmmm... and what would your good Lady Mother think of you bending over for a bastard like me my Lady"? Jon practically growls as he smoothed his rough hands over her exposed milky white cheeks.

"I'd be punished" she breathes.

"Do you deserve to be punished my Lady"? Jon rasps. Sansa lowers her upper body down into the hay and nods. The fine hay tickling the bare skin of her teats where Jon had ripped and pawed at her laces.

"And why is that"? He teases.

"Becau...because I have improper thoughts about a Bastard boy" Sansa whines, pushing her hips back into Jon's hand as he reaches down between her legs.

"I see... and what about your betrothed Lord? Do you have improper thoughts of him"? Jon growls.

"No"

"Will you save your little cunny for him and him alone my sweet Lady"?

"No" Sansa groans as Jon's fingers slip inside of her.

He works his fingers in and out and then in and out again to glide up over her pearl - encouraged by her whimpers and the wet noises at his hand.

She's close to her peak now - Jon knows. He's learnt all the ways to bring her pleasure over the course of just a few months. He knows the pitch of her moans just before she explodes into a shuddering delight, crying his name. She's so close now - just as he pulls away his hand.

Sansa gasps and whines as that delicious feeling starts to fade away. He'll bring her back up to her peak - he always does.

Sansa squeals and fails at suppressing a giggle when Jon gives her arse cheek the first smack, making her flesh jiggle and colour pink. He growls and bends himself over her to nip at the skin at the back of her neck.

"Do you not care for your poor betrothed Lord's want for a pure, virtuous maiden"? Jon whispers.

Sansa wiggles beneath him in frustration, she has already ended two betrothals and refused the hands of countless men - still it irks him so, and who could blame him? Not only a bastard but her half brother - how could they ever be as they wish? So here they are in a pattern of secretive liaisons, giving all that they can to each other while they still can.

"Jon....I want you" she whines.

"Is my Lady wanton for me"?

"Yes" Sansa pants as she tries desperately to rub herself up against him.

Jon sucks in a long breath as he straightens himself and gives Sansa's other arse cheek a firm thwack drawing out a gasp and then a groan from her lips.

He likes to tease her, she knows. But she also knows that there comes a point with each encounter where he cannot contain himself, cannot wait any longer. Sansa deduced that time had come when all she could hear and feel behind her is frantic fumbling of laces and curses to the Gods on the subject of clothing and knots.

Sansa stifled a giggle forming in her throat. Her self satisfied grin was quickly wiped clean from her face and replaced with an open mouthed gasp when, without warning or preamble, Jon sheathed himself fully within her with one bold thrust, her slickness aiding the glide of his cock.

"Oh Gods...Oh Sansa" Jon muttered breathlessly as he stilled, his hands roaming and grasping her smooth flesh. Once his roughened fingers began to bite into her hips, Jon set a pace only known to men driven mad by lust. It was a madness that Sansa was quite willing to submit to and drown in as she bid him to take her faster, harder.

Jon lowered himself to pant filthy words into her ear. Words of his bastardy and how a Lady of her station should not so shamelessly offer her cunny to him. Of how he can tell it excites her to submit to his mouth, tongue, hands and cock.

She's close again, his hands slipping beneath her to knead her breasts as they move with his efforts and grunts. One of his hands stills her body's jostling by holding firmly onto her shoulder, intensifying the feel of his thrusts.

The barn fills with moans and strangled grunts as Jon finishes pulsing his seed within her and collapses upon Sansa's body alight with her own pleasure.

********

"How long until you are needed back at the castle my love"? Jon asks her, nosing her hair and reaching forward to hold her delicate hands in his own.

"Not long" Sansa sighs in answer, bringing their cluster of hands to her lips so that she may kiss his knuckles lightly. "You are wanted too" she adds suddenly, turning to see the confusion on his face.

Sansa shrugs at his unspoken question "Father says he and his guest, Lord Reed have something important to discuss with you".

 


End file.
